Page 8 of Won't Let Go
“I don’t want to be here.”
Yeah, I’ve gathered that. We all fucking have.
Gritting my teeth, I blow out a breath. “Why?”
“You know why!” she explodes, and I feel it in my chest. Deep. Like a knife. The lancing pain is enough to take my breath away. But I don’t let it show. I will never let it show. This isn’t about me. It’s about her. It’s not personal. Well, it is, as I care about her. But you know what I mean. Her ire is misplaced, and I’m the outlet. Guess it’s a good thing I’ve got a thick skin. You have to go with the flow when you’re raised by a mother like mine.
“Tell me,” I whisper, trying to coax it out. I want to know the real reason. I want to know everything. The more she talks, the less power she gives her demons. But she won’t do it. Not with me. Not with anyone.
Jade slams a palm onto the arm of her chair. “No!”
“Yes!” I slam my hand on the couch arm. “Tell me. Fucking tell me.”
Growling under her breath, Jade shoves out of her seat before she glares at me, huffs, turns, and storms down the hallway. “I hate you!”
“Yeah. Well,” I call over my shoulder. “You can hate me forever, as long as you’re still breathin’.”
“Fuck you, Josh!” Jade snarls as she slams the door to her bedroom closed. It rattles the walls and knocks a picture frame off-kilter.
Oh, joy. Another day of getting nowhere with this one.
Rolling my eyes, I yank my phone from my pocket to see what messages I’ve missed.
Hunter: Is Mom doing okay?
My heart squeezes.
Poor kid.
Big said he’s been staying in my room at the clubhouse, and the brothers are keepin’ an eye on him. But it’s not the same as his bed, where he can see his mom whenever he wants.
Me: Yeah. She’s good. We just got home.
Hunter: Gunz said I’m here for another week or two. Something bad happened, didn’t it?
Me: It did. But I’ve got it handled. She’s safe. Try not to worry about things here. I’m sure Deb needs help with the dogs, and Deke could use more help at the shop.
Hunter: I worked there today.
We lapse into a chat about his day, and when I’m through, I check in with the brothers before tackling my girlfriend Bitty’stexts. She’s sent a handful today that I haven’t gotten a chance to reply to. Part of me knows I should feel bad about that, but the other part of me doesn’t give as much of a shit as I should. She’s stuck by me through a lot, and every time I get the urge to break things off, I chicken out. Not because I’ll miss her. I just don’t wanna break her heart. Which, I know, makes me sound like a douchebag. But I’m twenty-three for fuck’s sake. I’m not ready to be tied down yet. Plus, I’ve got my hands more than full with a certain someone who’s blaring music from her bedroom. Music she knows I can’t stand.
Dragging a palm down my face, I laugh, brittle but semi-impressed with her gall.
Of course, Jade has to rub more salt in the wounds.
I didn’t let her die, so now she’s gonna kill me—death by Hanson.
Time to MMMBop my ass to the kitchen to fix us some food.
Fucking Millennial women and their love for 90s pop music.
Ugh.
4
JADE
Sittingcross-legged in the middle of my bed, hunched forward, I chew on the end of my pencil as I decide what else I wanna add to my current sketch that’ll eventually end up inked on someone’s body. It’s a knife, sticking out of a person’s back, and there’s blood. It’s rocking the traditional vibes. I bite the yellow number two between my teeth and pick up a sharper pencil from the pile fanned out beside me.
